4_Chapter 3_ The Grimoire Smiles Quietly

CHAPTER 3 The Grimoire Smiles Quietly“Forget_me_not.” 1 Kamijou didn’t understand what she meant. He didn’t understand the words coming out of her mouth. Collapsed on the street, covered in blood, he looked up at Kanzaki and thought everything she’d said had been a hallucination induced by pain, because it was ridiculous. Index was being hunted by sorcerers and fleeing to the Church of England. There was no way the sorcerers chasing her were part of the Church of England, too. “Have you ever heard of perfect recall?” Kaori Kanzaki posed the question to him. Her voice was weak, her posture pained, and she certainly didn’t look like one of the top ten sorcerers, even of London. She didn’t look like anything but an exhausted, normal girl. “Yeah…that’s how she got the 103,000 books…right?” Kamijou managed through cut lips. “…She’s got them all…in her head, she said. I didn’t believe her…or in an ability that would let somebody memorize everything just by seeing it once. Because she’s so…stupid. She definitely doesn’t seem like…that sort of genius.” “…And how do you see her?” “Just a girl.” Kanzaki wasn’t surprised. Her expression grew fatigued, and she sighed. “Do you think just an ordinary girl could have managed to evade us for an entire year?” “…” “Stiyl’s flames, my Seven Glints and Single Glint…She couldn’t have run away from sorcerers giving their magic names by herself without relying on magic like we do or on some kind of strange power like yours.” Kanzaki smiled. “Just two members of the order were enough to make things turn out like this. If all of Necessarius was to become my enemy, I wouldn’t last a month.” That’s right. Kamijou finally recognized Index’s true strength. Even with his Imagine Breaker, an ability that could instantly nullify even miracles, he couldn’t even evade the sorcerers for four days. But she had done it for… “She is a bona fide genius,” Kanzaki declared. “If she were mistreated, the devastation she could cause would be of the magnitude of natural disasters. The reason the Church doesn’t treat her like an average person is obvious. It’s because everybody is scared.” “…But still…” Kamijou bit down on his bloody lips. “…She’s…human. She’s not a tool…And her name…How can you forgive that…?!” “You’re right.” Kanzaki nodded. “…On the one hand, her specs are no different from ordinary people like us.” “…?” “More than eighty-five percent of her brain has been completely occupied by the 103,000-volume index…In her condition, completely weighted down and forced to function off the remaining fifteen percent, she’s just like us.” That was a fascinating thought, but there was something else he wanted to know instead. “…So…what? What the hell are you all doing? Isn’t Necessarius the church Index belongs to? Why is the Church of Necessary Evils chasing her around? Why did Index call you evil sorcerers from a sorcerers’ society?” He clenched his teeth for a moment. “Or what? Are you trying to say she’s been lying to me?” He couldn’t believe that. If she’d just been trying to use him to her own ends, there would have been no reason for her to endanger and take a blow to the back to save him. And logic aside, he didn’t want to believe it. Kaori Kanzaki hesitated briefly before answering, “…She wasn’t lying to you.” She spoke as if the words were stuck in her throat, as if her heart was on the verge of being crushed. “She doesn’t remember anything.” “She doesn’t know that we’re both affiliated with Necessarius or why she’s really being followed. She doesn’t remember, so she was forced to make assumptions based on whatever information she had left. She figured it was probable that she was being targeted by a magical society bent on getting its hands on the 103,000 books.” Kamijou thought back. Index had told him she didn’t have any memories before one year ago. “But…wait, just wait a second. Something’s weird. Doesn’t Index have perfect recall? How did she forget? And why did she lose her memories in the first place?” “She didn’t lose them.” Kanzaki held her breath. “It would be more accurate to say that I erased them.” He didn’t need to ask her how. “…Please do not force me to say my name, young man. “…I don’t want to use that name ever again.” “…Why?” he insisted. “Why?! You were Index’s friend! And it wasn’t just Index who thought so, either; it’s written all over your face! Index was a close friend to you! So why?!” Kamijou remembered the smile Index had given him. That was a smile to her sole connection in the world, inspired by loneliness. “…There was…It was the only thing I could do.” “Why?!” Kamijou shouted, as if howling at the moon. “Because if I don’t, Index will die.” Kamijou’s breath ceased. His sensation of the heat of the midsummer night vanished all at once. His senses began thinning, as if he was trying to escape reality. As if…as if he had become a corpse. “I already told you that eighty-five percent of her brain is occupied storing the 103,000 books,” Kanzaki said, her shoulders trembling. “That means she can only utilize the same fifteen percent as everyone else now. If she goes on creating memories like a regular person, her brain will blow out like a tire in no time.” “Th-that’s…” No. With no logic or reason to justify his reaction, he nevertheless raced to denial. “But…But that’s not right. You said she’s just like us with the fifteen percent…” “Yes. However, Index has something we do not: perfect recall.” The emotion was steadily draining from Kanzaki’s voice. “Let’s start with, what exactly is perfect recall?” “…The ability…to never forget something once you’ve seen it, right?” “Then is the act of forgetting really such a bad thing?” “…” “The amount of free space in a human brain is actually a lot smaller than you might think. If you lived for a hundred years, the only reason you’d be capable of doing so is because your brain maintains itself, purging itself of unneeded memories…You can’t remember what you ate for dinner a week ago, can you? Everyone’s mind cleans itself up unconsciously. If it didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to carry on living. “However,” she continued haltingly. “She cannot do that.” “…” “From the number of leaves on every tree lining every street to each face comprising a crowd during rush hour to the shape of every single raindrop falling from the sky…Her brain is incapable of forgetting any of these, so it filled up with useless detritus almost immediately,” she said icily. “…For Index, unable to utilize anything but that last fifteen percent in the first place, it’s fatal. To survive, someone like her has no alternative but to borrow somebody’s power to make her forget.” Kamijou’s mind collapsed. …This…What kind of fairy tale is this? An unlucky girl is hunted by evil magic users only to be saved by some boring guy. They become friends, and in the end, he sees her off, nursing a melancholy tightness in his chest…Wasn’t that supposed to be the story here? “…So before those who can use it take her away, we came to secure her.” “…I would like to secure the girl before I have to give my magic name.” “…How long…?” Kamijou put the burning question out there. The moment he asked, he’d accepted her story as truth. “How much longer can her brain hold until it blows out?” “Erasure of her memories is conducted at exact one-year intervals,” Kanzaki replied tiredly. “…She has three days left. If we do it too early or too late, it will be over. We can only erase her memories at that precise time…I hope that she hasn’t been dealing with the migraines that appear and precede the end.” Kamijou shuddered. Index had certainly said she didn’t have any memories from before a year ago. And migraines…Since she was the only one who knew anything about sorcery, he’d taken her at her word when she said her collapse was a reaction from the healing magic. But what if Index had been mistaken? What if she was just on the brink, her overwrought brain poised to give out at any moment? “Do you understand now?” Kaori Kanzaki asked the question flatly. There were no tears in her eyes. She probably wouldn’t have allowed herself such a cheap display of emotion. “We have no intention of harming her. In fact, without us, she cannot be saved. Will you please hand her over before I have to give my magic name?” “…” Kamijou pictured Index’s face before his eyes. He shut them tight and gritted his teeth again. “You should know that she will not remember you after we erase her memories. You can tell from that piercing stare she gives us, can’t you? However much you may care for her, once she wakes up, she will see you as nothing more than a natural predator stalking her 103,000 books.” “…” Kamijou suddenly felt as if something was out of place. “Saving her will avail you nothing.” “…What did you say?” The sentiment blossomed in his mind, as if it were gasoline suddenly ignited. “What did you say?! Don’t screw with me! It doesn’t matter one bit whether or not she remembers! It looks like you don’t get it, so I’ll spell it out for you. I’m Index’s friend and ally. And that’s what I’m gonna stay, no matter what! That’s the reality, whether it’s written in that stupid holy book you all seem to love or not!!” “…” “I thought it was weird, you know? She forgets, but you can’t just explain everything to her after the fact? Why the hell did you leave her like this? Why are you chasing her around like she’s your enemy?! Why did you abandon her?! Why didn’t you think about her feeli—” “Shut the fuck up! You don’t know a goddamn thing!” Kanzaki’s roar above him completely took the wind out of his tirade. Her raw emotion, no longer concerned with polite consideration of her words, squeezed Kamijou’s heart. “Don’t act like you know!! How the hell do you think we feel, having to steal her memories like this?! Who the hell do you think you are?! You called Stiyl a homicidal maniac! How did you think he felt having to look at the two of you?! How much was he suffering?! How much resolve did it take for him to face the two of you like he was the enemy?! Do you have even the remotest fucking conception of the toll it takes on him to pretend to be the bad guy for the sake of a cherished friend?!” “Wha—?” Before Kamijou could so much as raise his voice in surprise at this complete attitude change, the side of his body was caved in by a merciless kick that sent him flying through the air as if he were a soccer ball. He hit the pavement sharply, rolling a good two or three meters. He could taste blood all the way from his stomach to his mouth. He hadn’t even had time to acclimate himself to this latest agony when Kanzaki leaped at him, her figure silhouetted against the moon. It had to be some kind of joke. She propelled three meters into the air on her leg strength alone and— “…?!” Kamijou heard a crunch. The flat end of the Seven Heavens Sword’s sheath crushed his arm like the stiletto of a high-heeled shoe. But he wasn’t even allowed to cry out in pain. Kanzaki’s face hovered over him, looking wholly on the cusp of shedding bloody tears. Kamijou was scared. He wasn’t scared of her Seven Glints, or her Single Glint, or the true power of one of the top ten sorcerers in London. He was scared of the unbridled human emotion aimed directly at him. “I did my best, too! I did my best! Spring, summer, fall, and winter! We documented everything! We poured our hearts into diaries and photo albums to create memories she couldn’t forget!” With the relentless speed and precision of a seeing machine’s needle, she rained the point of her sheath down on him over and over again. Arms, legs, gut, chest, face—the blunt instrument punished him brutally, crushing different parts one after the other. “…But it was pointless.” Kamijou could actually hear her gritting her teeth. Her hand stopped abruptly. “Even if she read the diaries or looked at the photo albums…All she did was say, ‘I’m sorry.’ No matter how many times we started from scratch to create new memories for her, no matter how many times the cycle repeats itself…family, friends, loved ones, everything…just fades to nothing.” She was shaking terribly, as if unable to take another step. “We can’t…take it anymore. We can’t stand seeing her smile anymore.” For someone with Index’s disposition, being torn away from loved ones must have been more excruciating than death. And she was caught in this endless, hellish loop, forced to swallow that pain over and over again. Partings more painful than death, only to be succeeded by the same preordained misery. It was beyond tragic. So Kanzaki and the others had decided that, rather than burden her with cruel reunions, they would mitigate the suffering of each separation as much as they could. If Index had no worthwhile memories in the first place, it wouldn’t come as such a shock when she lost them. So they abandoned their friend, setting themselves up as her enemies. They painted over Index’s memories—everything she was—in black. They tried to make her final moments—her personal hell—a little less painful. “…” Kamijou got the picture. These guys are professional sorcerers. They make the impossible possible. As Index forfeited her memories again and again, they had unquestionably sought out other alternatives. But they’d never been blessed with an answer. Not once. And Index, the victim in all of this, would never have blamed Stiyl or Kanzaki. She would suffer the burden alone as always, always with the same smile. Always starting over at zero, with no one to blame but themselves, Kanzaki and her partner were ultimately doomed to go bad. But that was… “Screw…that…” Kamijou bit down on his back teeth. “That’s just your stupid, selfish rationalization. You never thought about Index for a second! Don’t make me laugh…Don’t pawn off your own damn cowardice on her!!” For an entire year, Index had fled without asking anyone for help. He absolutely wouldn’t accept their solution. He couldn’t accept it. He didn’t want to. “Then, what…what other way was there?!” Kanzaki tightened her grip on the Seven Heavens Sword’s sheath, bringing it down on Kamijou’s face as hard as she could. He jerked his tattered right hand to intercept, barely managing to restrain the weapon before it struck home. I’m not worried about this kind of sorcerer anymore. My body moves. It moves! “If you were just a little stronger…” He gritted his teeth. “If you weren’t frauds who could actually follow through with your own lies…if you were scared of her losing her memories…then you just needed to resolve to give her even better ones the next year…! If she knew how much happiness lay ahead of her, losing her memories wouldn’t have to be so scary. No one would have to run away anymore! That’s all you needed to do!!” Despite his shattered shoulder, he willed his right hand to grab a firmer hold on the sheath. He used every shred of his strength to pull himself up, the effort merely pumping streams of blood through the fresh lacerations covering his body. “Do you still…plan on fighting with those wounds?” “…Shut…up…” “What will you accomplish by fighting?” It was Kanzaki who seemed confused. “Even if you defeat me, the whole of Necessarius is at my back. I may be one of the top ten sorcerers in London, but there are still others above me…If you look at the whole Church, I’m merely a pawn they are comfortable exiling to the Far East.” Yeah, that was probably true. If she and Stiyl were really Index’s friends, they would have been opposed to the Church’s treatment of her. The fact that they weren’t doing it meant that they were ineffectual; there was just that much of a gap in strength. “I’m telling you…to shut…the hell up!!” But all that was irrelevant. His body rattled. Even though he felt like he could keel over at any moment, he forced his body forward again and glared into Kanzaki’s eyes. Confronted with just that powerless stare, one of the ten top sorcerers in London retreated a step. “That’s got nothing to do with it! Are you protecting people just because you feel like your strength obligates you?!” Kamijou trudged forward one step on ragged legs. “That’s not it, is it?! Don’t fool yourself! You got that power because there was something you wanted to protect!” With his threadbare left hand, he grabbed her neck. “Why the hell did you want that power?” With his shredded right hand, he made a bloody fist. “Who the hell did you want to protect with those hands?!” Kamijou shoved his sluggish fist into her face. There was no strength behind the blow, and on contact, his fist started spurting blood as if it were a crushed tomato. Nevertheless, Kanzaki staggered backward as if dealt a decisive blow. Her Seven Heavens Sword fell from her hand and clattered to the asphalt. “What the hell are you doing here?!” He stood over the crumpled Kanzaki. “You have all that power; you have all that talent…so why can’t you do anything…?” The ground swayed before his eyes. As soon as he noticed, Kamijou collapsed in a heap as if his battery had died. Get…up…She’s gonna…attack again… His vision flooded with darkness. He tried to force his body to respond, tried to prepare for Kanzaki’s counterattack despite the massive blood loss that had rendered him virtually sightless, but all the strength he could muster was barely sufficient to wiggle a little finger. But her counterattack didn’t come. It didn’t come. 2 A parched throat and sweltering body woke Kamijou. “Touma?” Realizing he was in Miss Komoe’s apartment, he saw Index peering at him. He’d been sleeping on a futon. Surprisingly, bright sunlight streamed through the window. He remembered losing to Kanzaki that night and passing out. He hadn’t known at the time how it would turn out, but the next thing he knew, he was here. All in all, he was rather incredulous about the whole thing and therefore wasn’t able to be happy just for being alive. He didn’t see Miss Komoe. She was probably out somewhere. He did see a bowl of porridge placed on the tea table next to Index. Inwardly, he apologized to Index that the next thought even occurred to him, but it didn’t seem likely that a girl who’d gotten hung up on his balcony and introduced herself by pestering him for food could actually cook for herself. It made more sense to assume Miss Komoe had made it and left it there for him. “Jeez, it’s…like I’m a patient here.” Kamijou tried to move his body. “Ow, ow, ow…What’s going on? The sun’s up, so night’s over…What time is it?” “It wasn’t just one night,” answered Index, sniffling a little. “?” Kamijou cocked an eyebrow, and Index delivered the news quietly. “Three days.” “Three…days…Wait, what?! Why was I asleep that long?!” “I don’t know! Don’t ask me!!” Her reaction was sudden and defensive. It was as if she was venting her anger and frustration. The sudden outburst caught Kamijou off guard, and he lost his breath. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know! I really didn’t know anything! I was so focused on getting away from that flame sorcerer who’d been outside your house that I didn’t even stop to think that you might be fighting another one!” The blade composed of her words wasn’t pointed at Kamijou. These wounds were self-inflicted. He started to feel overwhelmed and soon found himself unable to say anything. “Touma, Komoe said she found you lying in the middle of the street, and she brought you back to the apartment all torn up. While she was helping you, I was just thinking about myself. I didn’t know you were about to die, and since I got away from that stupid sorcerer, I got all happy!” She stopped there abruptly. Pausing momentarily, she slowly drew her breath in as if to say something decisive. “…I couldn’t save you, Touma.” Index’s small shoulders trembled. She stopped moving and bit her lower lip. But even now, Index wasn’t crying for her own sake. Her outlook on life allowed no sympathy or sentimentality for herself. To someone who’d vowed never to shed tears out of self pity, Kamijou knew he could never say anything comforting. So instead, he thought: Three days. If she’d wanted to kill him, Kanzaki could have dispatched him at her leisure. But wait…wasn’t it odd that they hadn’t shown up in all that time to collect Index? Then why? he wondered silently. He had no idea what they were planning. Besides, he had a nagging suspicion that there was some deeper significance behind the words three days. He felt as if bugs were silently crawling up his spine. Then it came back to him. The time limit! “? Touma, what’s wrong?” Kamijou gave a start, but Index just looked at him, confused. The fact that she remembered him meant that the sorcerers hadn’t erased her memories yet. What’s more, she didn’t appear to be exhibiting any of the related symptoms. He was relieved, but he also wanted to kill himself for having wasted the last three valuable days like this. But he decided to keep that to himself. He didn’t want Index to know. “…Damn it. My body won’t move. What is this? Am I mummified or something?” “Does it hurt?” “Does it hurt? If it hurt that much, I’d be writhing around in pain right now. What’s with all the bandages, anyway? Isn’t this a bit much?” “…” Index didn’t answer. And then, as if she couldn’t endure it anymore, she started crying again. That cut Kamijou to the quick more than any yelling could have. That was when it finally occurred to him: feeling no pain may have meant he was in far worse shape than he supposed. Miss Komoe can’t use healing magic again. He was pretty sure that’s what Index had told him. In RPGs, wounds were easily dealt with if you just had MP, but it seemed the real world wasn’t that considerate. Kamijou looked at his right hand. His shattered, crippled right hand was wrapped up in bandages. “Oh, right, espers who’ve undergone a Curriculum can’t use magic, right? Man, what a pain in the ass.” “…Yeah. Normal people and espers have different circuits, so…” She seemed dissatisfied. “It looks like your wounds will heal just with the bandages for now, but…Your science is so inconvenient. Our magic is probably faster.” “Well, you’re right about that…But no need for that magic crap; I’ll be fine.” “…What?” Index pouted at Kamijou’s condescension. “Touma, after all this, you still don’t believe in magic, do you? You’re like some clueless boy whose crush doesn’t know he’s alive! Stubborn!” “That wasn’t what I meant!” retorted Kamijou, burying the back of his head in his pillow. “…It’s just that, if possible, I don’t want to see that expression you get when you talk about magic.” Kamijou remembered Index’s explanation of rune magic in the hallway of his dormitory. Her eyes had been as empty and mechanical as cogs ticking in a watch. Her words had been more polite than a bus announcement and more lacking in humanity than an ATM. A unique, singular entity: the library of grimoires, the Index Librorum Prohibitorum. He still couldn’t believe that the girl in front of him was that. Or rather, he didn’t want to believe it. “? Touma, do you hate explanations?” “Huh…? Wait, don’t you remember? You were droning like some kind of ventriloquist’s dummy about Stiyl’s runes. Man, you definitely got my attention with that one.” “…Oh…I get it. I…I awakened again, huh?” “Awakened?” That made it sound like that marionette was the “real” her. The implication being that the kind girl sitting next to him was the “fake.” “Yeah. But I think I don’t want you to ask too much about my awakened state.” Before he could press her on why, Index went on. “Saying stuff you don’t remember is kinda like talking in your sleep, so it’s a little embarrassing. “And also”—she moved her lips again—“I’m scared of how it’s like slowly turning into an emotionless machine.” She smiled. The smile told everyone not to worry about her, despite the fact that she looked to be on the verge of collapse. No machine could have made an expression like that. Only a human being could have created that smile. “…I’m sorry,” Kamijou apologized automatically. He was embarrassed for thinking her anything less than human, if only for a moment. “It’s all right, dummy.” Index smirked, and he couldn’t tell if it was actually all right or not. “Want something to eat? There’s a whole big meal ready for the sick patient. There’s porridge, fruit, and candy.” “Okay, but how am I supposed to eat it with these hand—” Before he could finish, he realized she had chopsticks clamped in her right fist. “…Umm, Miss Index?” “Yeah? No reason to be all shy now, silly. If I hadn’t fed you like this for three days straight, you would have starved.” “…No, thanks. Please, oh Lord, I need a little bit of time to meditate.” “Why? Are you not hungry?” Index put down the chopsticks. “Then do you want me to wipe off the sweat for you?” “……………………………………………………………………………………………Excuse me?” An indescribable sensation made his entire body itch. What is this? What’s this unprecedented bad omen? What on earth is this awful sense of unease? If I ever see a videotape of these three days, I feel like I’ll explode and die out of sheer embarrassment… “…Anyway, I know you have good intentions and all, nothing malicious, but could you go sit over there, Index?” “?” She paused for a moment. “I’m already sitting.” “…” Index, holding a towel, was surely guided by her purest motives, but when his brain added the word innocent to the equation, Kamijou couldn’t help but feel a bit skeevy. “What’s the matter?” “Uhh…” Kamijou, fumbling for words, immediately tried to derail her. “Well, I’m lying on this futon, looking up at your face, and…” “Is that weird? I’m a nun, so the least I can do is care for a sick person.” It wasn’t weird. Her unsullied white habit and motherly demeanor made her seem like she was actually (sorry to say, Index) a nun. More than anything, though… Her cheeks were pink from crying, and when she looked at him with tears in her eyes, it was kind of… For some reason, saying it annoyed him beyond reasoning, so he didn’t. “No, no. I was just thinking about how your nose hair is silver, too.” “……………………………………………………………………………………………” Index’s face freeze-dried instantly. “Touma, Touma. What do you think I have in my hand?” “What do I…It’s porridge, but…Hey, wait! Wait, don’t let gravity—” In a stroke of rotten luck, Kamijou’s vision was unfortunately obscured in a flood of white by both the porridge and the bowl. 3 Kamijou, who now knew firsthand that rice porridge wasn’t easily removed from futons or pajamas, and Index, who was slightly teary eyed and currently engaged in a fierce battle with the thick grains of rice, both heard a knock and looked at the door. “Is it…Komoe?” “…At least say you’re sorry or something, idiot!” Incidentally, even though the rice porridge was cool and hadn’t scalded him, Kamijou had passed out for a few seconds in panicked convulsions at the moment the carbohydrates landed on him, due to his utter conviction that the gruel was actually very hot. “Huh? What are you doing outside my house?” They heard the voice on the opposite side of the door. It was Miss Komoe, who’d been out somewhere until now. She appeared to have run into the visitors who’d knocked. “Kami, I don’t know who they are, but you have guests.” The door opened with a loud click. Kamijou quaked. Behind Miss Komoe stood two familiar sorcerers. They looked a tiny bit relieved to find Index sitting there normally. He scowled suspiciously. His immediate assumption would have been that they were there to collect Index…but they could easily have done that anytime during the three days Kamijou was unconscious. Regardless of when their treatment was scheduled, there was no reason to leave her here. They could have just locked her up somewhere in the interim. …So why have they come now? He shuddered. He suddenly recalled the power of the magicians’ flames and sword, and his muscles tensed. On the other hand, his reason for fighting Stiyl and Kanzaki in the first place had become somewhat ambiguous. They weren’t “evil magic society soldiers A and B” anymore, but rather “Index’s friends from the Church arrived to assist her.” He was worried about Index’s well-being, too, after all. In the end, there was nothing left to do but cooperate and hand her over to the Church. However, that was merely his perspective. From the sorcerers’ vantage point, cooperation with Kamijou was wholly unnecessary. It would be an entirely simple matter to decapitate him right now and take Index back home. Stiyl seemed to revel in Kamijou’s tense demeanor. “Hmm. In that kinda shape, you can’t get away easily, can you?” Stiyl’s thinly veiled threat finally clued Kamijou in to his enemies’ intentions. Index could evade the sorcerers on her own. She’d spent nearly a year giving the Church the slip all by her lonesome. She could easily slip away and hole herself up somewhere if it was just her. It wasn’t even a matter of days now before she hit her limit. If they seriously let her elude them again, then, well…she had ducked the Church for almost a year. Even if they locked her up somewhere, she might have escaped, and she could also break out during the ceremony. However, that story changed if she was saddled with Kamijou. That’s why the sorcerers hadn’t killed him. That’s why they’d returned Index to his side: so that she would stand by him, thereby willingly binding herself with the shackles they had prepared. They’d stained their souls just to make absolutely certain that Index was securely in their grasp. “Go home, sorcerers!” Index planted herself in the magicians’ path—for Kamijou’s sake and no one else’s. She stood there with her arms spread wide, as if hanging on a cross for her sins. Exactly as her tormentors had intended. They’d clipped her wings by caging her with the shackles called “Kamijou.” “…” Stiyl and Kanzaki suddenly trembled. They trembled as if even though things had turned out as they’d plotted and predicted, still they couldn’t stand it. Kamijou thought about what Index’s expression must have looked like. As her back was to him at the moment, he could only imagine. Whatever it was, the sorcerers stood there, rooted in place. Miss Komoe, who wasn’t even getting the brunt of it, averted her eyes as waves of emotion washed over her. He thought about what they must have been experiencing. How it must have felt to be judged and found wanting in the eyes of someone you’d tried to protect to the point of committing murder. “…Stop…Index, they’re…they’re not enemi—” “Go home!!” Index wasn’t listening. “Please…I…I’ll go wherever you want…I’ll do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore, just please, I’m begging you…” Beneath her pervasive hatred, her voice mingled with that of a crying girl, tears dripping down her face. “I’m begging you, please don’t hurt Touma anymore!” How much…? Just how much damage did that deal to the sorcerers, once irreplaceable “companions”? For a moment—and only for a moment—the two magic users smiled extremely painfully. As if giving up on something. And then their eyes glazed over as if a switch had been flipped. Theirs were no longer the gazes one directs at a friend; they were the chilling glares of sorcerers. The conviction that they would mitigate the pain of parting as much as possible, rather than grant the cruel happiness of fleeting reunions… The feelings that had forced them to abandon their companion and become her enemy, precisely because she was a dear friend to them… Bonds like that couldn’t be broken. If Kamijou didn’t have the guts to speak his mind, he’d be able to do nothing but watch silently as the worst-case scenario unfolded. “There are twelve hours and thirty-eight minutes remaining before the limit.” Stiyl made the declaration in his sorcerer’s voice. Index probably didn’t understand what he meant by “limit.” “We wanted to come here to see how well our shackles performed, to see whether or not you’d run away. This went a bit beyond our expectations, though, eh? If you don’t want us to take away that toy of yours, then you should give up on any bright ideas you have about escape. Got it?” It had to be an act. In reality, he must have wanted to tearfully rejoice at the fact that Index was safe. He must have wanted to run his hands through her hair, to press his forehead to hers to feel her warmth. That’s how precious a friend she was to him. That he addressed her so harshly must have simply been an indication that he wanted to act out his role perfectly. How much inner strength must he have had to prevent himself from spreading his own arms and becoming Index’s own shield? Kamijou didn’t understand. Index didn’t answer. The two sorcerers said no more, leaving the apartment without another word. Why…? Why did it have to turn out this way? he thought, biting down on his back teeth. “It’s all right…okay?” Finally, Index lowered her arms and slowly turned to face Kamijou. He couldn’t help but shut his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He couldn’t bring himself to bear witness to Index’s face, disheveled, covered with tears and relief. “If I make a deal with them…” He heard her voice in the darkness. “…Then your normal life won’t be broken anymore. I won’t let them set another foot in here, so it’s okay.” “…” Kamijou couldn’t answer. He could only think, in the darkness, with his eyes closed. …Can I really let her go? Let our time together go? 4 Night fell. Index lay flat on her face next to the futon, asleep. She had drifted off before the sun went down, and the lights in the apartment hadn’t even been turned on. Miss Komoe was apparently going to the baths, so they were the only ones in the room. Apparently. Far from at his best, Kamijou had also been sleeping, and when he awoke, it was night. Miss Komoe’s room had no clock, so he didn’t know what time it was. When he remembered the time limit, he felt a chill. Index had quickly passed out in exhaustion, maybe as a result of the cumulative stress of the past three days. With her mouth hanging half open, she reminded him of a baby worn out after nursing from its mother. It seemed as if she’d already abandoned her original goal of making it to the Church of England. Maybe she didn’t want to have to drag the battered Kamijou along. Every once in a while, she’d say his name in her sleep, which was a little embarrassing. He confronted some complex feelings when he looked at her kitten-like, defenseless face. It didn’t matter how hard she tried or how stubborn she was; in the end, everything would go according to the Church’s designs. Whether she reached a church safely or was captured by sorcerers en route, she would be returned to Necessarius, and her memories would be erased. Suddenly, the phone rang. The phone in Miss Komoe’s apartment was an antique black rotary dial. Kamijou regarded it lazily as it made an alarming ringing noise. Answering it was just common sense, but Kamijou wasn’t sure it was okay to use Miss Komoe’s phone when she wasn’t around. He grabbed the handset anyway. Not because he wanted to pick up, but because he would have felt bad if it woke up Index. “It’s me. Do you understand?” What he heard from the other end of the line was a woman’s very proper voice. He could tell through the receiver that she was making an effort to speak quietly, as if whispering a secret. “Kanzaki…what was your first name?” “No. For our mutual well-being, we should not remember each other’s names. Is the girl…Is Index there?” “She’s sleeping over there, but…Wait, how do you know this number in the first place?” “The same way I knew the address. I just looked it up.” Her tone was stiff and unyielding. “If she is not awake, then all the better. Please listen to what I have to say.” “?” Kamijou frowned suspiciously. “…I touched on this before, but her time limit is at midnight tonight. As per proper procedure, we have created a schedule that will end everything at that time.” Kamijou’s heart froze. He already knew. He knew there was no other way to save Index. But with the end hovering before his eyes, he suddenly began to feel backed into a corner. “But…,” Kamijou started in a ragged voice. “Why would you…go through all this to tell me? Stop it…If you tell me all this, I’ll have to try and stop you even if my life’s on the line.” “…” The receiver fell silent. It was by no means completely quiet; it was a very human hush, intermingled with the sound of quiet breathing. “…Does that mean you do not require time to part with her?” “Wha—” “I will come out and say this. When we tried to erase her memory the first time, we were absorbed with trying to capture memories with her those last three days. On the final night, we clung to her and cried hideously. I think that you at least deserve to be given the same consideration.” “Don’t…screw with…me…,” Kamijou responded despite himself, practically crushing the phone in his grip. “All that means is that you’re telling me to give up, right?! Aren’t you just telling me to abandon any right I have to put in the effort to fight it to the death?!” “…” “Listen up, because there’s something you don’t quite get. I haven’t given up yet. No, I’m not giving up no matter what! If I lose a hundred times, I’ll stand back up a hundred times, and if I lose a thousand times, I’ll crawl back to my feet a thousand times! That’s all there is to it, so just watch me do what you guys couldn’t!!” “This is neither a dialogue nor a negotiation, just a message and warning. Regardless of what you may want, we will pick her up by the time limit. If you would still try to stop us, then we need only crush you.” The sorcerer’s voice was as smooth as a bank clerk’s. “You may be attempting to appeal to what human kindness remains in me…But that is all the more reason for me to make this a strict demand.” Her voice was as cold as a katana wielded in the night air. “Before we arrive, say your parting words and leave that place. Your role was to serve as her shackles. The destiny of a chain is to be cut loose once it has served its purpose.” The sorcerer’s words weren’t laden with simple hatred or derision. It almost sounded as if she wanted to spare someone from getting hurt, should he put forward another futile effort. “Bull…shit…” For some reason, that hit a nerve, and Kamijou swore into the receiver, snapping back at her. “Every single one of you…You blame your weakness on other people. Aren’t you sorcerers? Can’t your magic make the impossible possible?! Then what the hell is this mess? Is magic really that useless?! Can you really face Index and honestly claim that you’ve tried every single, solitary spell?!” “…I cannot do anything with magic. I’m not proud of it, but I refuse to placate her with empty words.” Kanzaki sounded as if she was seething through her teeth. “If there was a way, we would have found it long ago. No one would want to have to endure this…this cruel ultimatum.” “…What are you saying?” “You cannot give up because you do not know the facts. I did not want to spend these last hours so fruitlessly, but I can at least help you to sink into despair.” As if reading fluidly from the Bible, she continued, “Her perfect recall ability is neither a preternatural talent like yours, nor is it magical like mine; it is just how she is. It is no different than having bad eyesight or hay fever. It is not something that can be broken like some kind of hex.” “…” “We are sorcerers. We may dispel magic by using magic in an environment created by magic.” “So it’s some kind of anti-occult defensive system made by a sorcery expert. How annoying. Couldn’t you do something if you used Index’s 103,000 grimoires?! For people preaching about how you could obtain the power of God from her, it’s pretty damn stingy for you to say you can’t heal a single brain!” “You’re referring to demon gods. The Church’s number one fear is that the Index Librorum Prohibitorum could rebel against them. That’s why they placed a collar on her that requires the Church’s maintenance to wipe her memories every year. Do you think they would have left a means for her to remove her own collar?” Kanzaki asked quietly. “…Most likely, there is a bias in those 103,000 books. For example, she may be unable to access grimoires related to memory manipulation or something along those lines. It’s only natural to infer that some sort of security system would be in place.” Those bastards, Kamijou swore to himself. “…You said that eighty percent of Index’s head is eaten up by the knowledge from those 103,000 books, right?” “Yes. More precisely, it is eighty-five percent, but for us sorcerers, eradicating those 103,000 books is impossible. Not even an Inquisitor is capable of destroying a grimoire’s original text. We couldn’t expand the free space in her head without hollowing out the other fifteen percent: her memories.” “…Then what about us from the science world?” “…” The other end of the receiver fell silent again. Kamijou considered the possibility. He thought that if sorcerers had attacked the problem from all sides using their own field—magic—and it still wasn’t effective, then what if they didn’t give up but instead turned to a new field? Wouldn’t that be the logical course of action? For example, if that field was science… They would certainly need somebody to chart their course. It would be comparable to hiring a translator in a foreign land so you could interact with the locals. However, Kanzaki’s next words caught him off guard. “…Yes, there was a time we considered it,” she explained. “To be honest, I’m not sure what should be done now. I had faith in the absolute power of magic, but it can’t even save one girl. We have no choice but to grasp at straws at this point. I understand that, but…” “…” He could guess what came next. “…To be honest, I am hesitant to hand over a dear friend to science.” Even though he knew, her position when articulated stabbed at his brain. “Part of me thinks that there is no way your science can accomplish what our magic cannot. Flooding her body with strange medicines and cutting her open with a knife…Such barbaric tactics would only serve to unnecessarily compromise her life span. I don’t want to see her violated by a machine.” “That’s just…How can you say that when you haven’t even tried? If that’s the case, I have one question for you. You keep talking simply about killing memories, but do you even know what amnesia is in the first place?” She had no answer. As he suspected, she didn’t know much about neuroscience. Kamijou dragged a Curriculum textbook on the floor to him with his feet. It was a Development recipe with a sprinkling of neuroscience, exceptional psychology, and reactionary pharmacology. “You keep talking about taking away her memories, and perfect recall, and stuff like that. But even though amnesia is a simple word, there’s more than one kind.” He flipped through the pages. “Aging…well, senility is one, as is blacking out from intoxication. There’s an illness called Alzheimer’s, and TIA…where blood stops flowing to your brain and your memory vanishes. Halothane, isoflurane, fentanyl, all the full-body anesthetics—and then there are side effects from medicines like barbituric acid derivatives and benzodiazepines that can make you lose your memory.” “??? Benzo…What?” Kanzaki reeled in an uncharacteristically feeble voice, but Kamijou ignored her. He was under no obligation to politely explain every little thing to her. “To put it simply, there are plenty of ways to medically remove a person’s memories. Which means there are methods you haven’t tried to wash away those 103,000 grimoires, moron.” Kanzaki’s breath caught in surprise. But these were all ways to damage your brain cells, as opposed to ways to get rid of your memories. Old people suffering from dementia lose their memory over time, but that doesn’t free up space to remember new things. However, he didn’t dare say that. Call it a bluff, but first he had to find a way to deal with the memory purge the sorcerers were trying to force on her. “And besides, this is Academy City, you know? There’s plenty of espers who manipulate minds using techniques like psychometry and puppeteering, and furthermore, there are a ton of agencies researching it. It’s too soon to give up hope. At Tokiwadai alone, there’s apparently a Level Five esper who can steal a person’s memories just by touching them.” If anything, this was actually the last ray of hope. The other end of the line was mute. Kamijou continued talking, beating down Kanzaki, who’d started exhibiting signs of doubt. “So, what will you do, sorcerer? Are you still going to get in people’s way? Are you going to give up; take the easy, temporary way out; and keep weighing the lives of other human beings like coins on a scale?” “…For arguments intended to sway an enemy, those were cheap,” replied Kanzaki with a hint of self-deprecation. “On the other hand, for now, we have the faith and the results that have saved her life in the past. I cannot trust your gamble, because it has no proven track record. Do you not think your suggestion is reckless?” Now it was Kamijou’s turn to fall mum momentarily. He tried to come up with some counterargument, but not a single thing came to him. He had to give up. “…I guess so. In the end, we couldn’t come to an understanding.” He had no choice but to completely acknowledge her as his enemy, even though her circumstances were the same and she could have understood. “So it seems. If people who want the same things became allies as a matter of course, the world would certainly be more peaceful than it is now.” Kamijou gripped the handset a little bit harder. With his right hand, the one weapon said to be capable of erasing even miracles. “…Then I’ll crush you, my old enemy.” “It is clearer than fire what the outcome will be, given the difference in our abilities. Will you still call my bet?” “Yeah. I’ll even raise. I’m gonna draw you into an environment where I’ll win for sure.” He bared his canines at the receiver. Stiyl hadn’t been less powerful than him after all. He’d won because Stiyl fell victim to the sprinkler. The point being that there should always be a way to negate an opponent’s advantages by approaching a fight from the right angle. “I will tell you in advance: The next time that girl collapses, please consider it to be too late.” Kanzaki’s warning was as sharp as the tip of a knife. “In any event, we will descend on your location at midnight tonight. You have very little time left, but I look forward to a splendidly futile effort.” “I’ll wipe that grin off your face, sorcerer. I’ll save her and steal the spotlight from you completely.” “I cannot wait.” She snorted, then hung up. Kamijou quietly replaced the receiver and then looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see the moon in the night sky beyond it. “Damn it!” He brought his right fist down on the tatami floor vigorously, as if he was pummeling a pinned opponent. His wrecked right hand didn’t hurt in the slightest. His mind was in such chaos that it completely ignored the pain. He’d talked pretty big on the phone with the sorcerer, but Kamijou was neither a neurosurgeon nor a professor of cerebral physiology. Even if science could somehow do something, a high school kid like him wasn’t coming up with any breakthroughs about the proper course of treatment. But he couldn’t quit now just because he was stuck. An intense sense of panic and uneasiness settled over him, as if he’d been plopped down in the middle of a flat, endless desert and told to haul ass back to town on his own. When the time limit came, the sorcerers would mercilessly exterminate Index’s memories. They were probably already hiding outside the apartment, countermeasures already implemented should he try making a break for it. He didn’t understand why they didn’t just attack now. Did they empathize with him? Was Index too fragile to move this close to the end? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He looked at Index’s round face as she slept peacefully on the tatami. Then, with an “Okay!” he tried to kick his brain into gear. Despite the fact that there were more than a thousand research agencies in Academy City, big and small, as a student, Kamijou had no connections or pull with any of them. He needed to try contacting Miss Komoe to ask her instead. She might think it was hopeless with so little time remaining. Index’s limit was swiftly approaching, but…Actually, he had a secret plan. Since Index’s brain blew if she kept creating memories, if he could somehow keep her asleep, wouldn’t that stop her from creating memories and give him more time? When he thought about drugs that induced a deathlike paralysis, it reeked of silliness and sounded very Romeo and Juliet–esque. He didn’t have to go that far, though. Some laughing gas—a full-body anesthetic used during surgery—would be more than sufficient to place her into a deep sleep. He also wasn’t worried about the possibility of her dreams resulting in additional memory consumption. He’d learned a bit about sleep processes in his Development classes. The only time a person dreams is when he or she is in shallow slumber. A person entering deep sleep would forget even having had dreams, and his or her mind would rest. Therefore, Kamijou needed two things. First, he needed to ask for Miss Komoe to contact a neuroscience or mind ability–related research facility to help. Second, he needed to evade the sorcerers’ surveillance and get Index out of there, or else he needed to orchestrate a scenario where he could somehow defeat two magic users. He started with calling Miss Komoe. …At least, he was going to, but when he thought about it, he realized he didn’t know her cell phone number. “Ack, wow, I’m stupid…,” he muttered to himself with half a mind to just curl up and die. He took a look around him. The completely ordinary, cramped 4.5-tatami room suddenly struck him as a confusing labyrinth. The unlit room was as dark as the night sea, and even the small shadows from the piles of books and overturned beer cans seemed to be concealing things. He started getting a little queasy when he thought about how many drawers were in her dresser and cabinets. He knew it was crazy to try and search everything for a cell number he didn’t even know existed. He felt as if he’d been tasked to find a single battery someone had accidentally tossed into a garbage dump. But he couldn’t let that stop him. He decided to try looking for a number that might have been jotted down on a scrap of paper and started overturning things around him. Right now, every second was crucial, so looking for something he wasn’t absolutely certain was there to be found was insane. With every heartbeat, his mind grew a little more frantic, and with every breath, impatience racked his brain. Someone peering through the window would no doubt have taken him for a punk trashing the place. Reaching into the back of a cabinet drawer and pulling out a stack of books, he glanced at Index, still curled up and oblivious. For all of the madness surrounding the girl, time seemed frozen in the spot where she lay. Seeing Index in full-on sleepy-cat mode while he busted his ass made him want to punch her in the face, but that didn’t mean he missed the piece of paper that looked suspiciously accounting oriented that slipped out of a college-ruled notebook that he’d overturned. It was a cell phone usage statement. Kamijou scrambled to pick it up. There were eleven lines of numbers on it. Incidentally, he saw his teacher had a ridiculous 142,500-yen balance the previous month. Some telemarketers and scammers had probably locked her into conversations. Normally, he’d have spent a good three straight days rolling around on the floor laughing about this, but clearly this wasn’t the time. I need to call her, he thought, heading for the black phone. It seemed as if it took an eternity for him to identify the appropriate number. From his warped sense of perspective, it could have been hours or minutes. His mind was backed so far into a corner that he’d lost any concept of time. He dialed the number. As if rehearsed beforehand, Miss Komoe picked up after the third ring. Kamijou, nearly foaming at the mouth, vomited into the handset an explanation that was difficult even for him to follow, given that he hadn’t fully processed it all yet. “…Hmm? Teacher’s specialty is pyrokinesis, so I don’t have many mind-hound-related contacts. For now, you could probably use the Takizawa Agency or Toudai’s University Hospital, but their facilities are second-rate. It would be safer to call an esper in the field. If I remember correctly, Miss Yotsuba from Judgment is a Level Four telepath and quite obliging.” Miss Komoe answered helpfully, despite him not explaining the details. He seriously began thinking he should have just asked Miss Komoe in the first place. “But Kami, even if the professors at the research labs are night owls, it would be pretty hard for a student to call them at this hour. Do you want me to arrange a lab for her?” “Do I want…No, Miss Komoe, I’m sorry, but this is time critical. Can’t you get them out of bed or something?” “Well…,” Miss Komoe considered. After an irritatingly long pause, she replied: “I mean, it’s almost midnight, you know?” Huh? Kamijou froze. There was no clock in the apartment. Even if there were, Kamijou wouldn’t have had the courage to check it. His gaze slowly, awkwardly dropped to Index’s sleeping form. She seemed peaceful enough, curled up on the tatami. But her outstretched limbs weren’t moving. They didn’t even twitch. “…In…dex?” he prompted hesitantly. No reaction. As if wholly incapacitated by a fever, she didn’t respond. The receiver droned something incoherent. But Kamijou dropped it before he could make it out. A dank, cold sweat suddenly broke out on his palms. He felt something ominous, as if a bowling ball had been deposited in the pit of his stomach. Then, he heard the metallic sound of footsteps walking up the apartment complex hallway. “…In any event, we will descend on your location at midnight tonight. You have very little time left, but I look forward to a splendidly futile effort.” The door to the apartment burst open violently the instant the warning came back to him. The blue moonlight trickled into the room, much like sunlight leaking through trees in a forest. The two sorcerers were silhouetted in the doorframe, the perfectly round moon at their backs. Just then, Japan’s clocks struck midnight. A certain girl’s time was up. In other words, it was over.